


Carnal Desire

by orphan_account



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, I hope not but have a quickie, Masturbation, Mentions of alcohol, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, and it's no longer a one night thing, cunniligus, for I have no shame and nor does Vergil, hohoho do I have a bunch of tags for you sinnamons, is this a one night thing, just a casual conversation with dante, oh there we go tags are filling up, slight face fucking??, the adventures continue, think this is the quickest smut I've ever written whoops, wait I actually don't oops, with smut in a changing room
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more he leaned in, the rosier the hue spread over your cheeks. He exhaled, allowing his warm breath reach your skin; eyes darting from your face to your arms, watching the goosebumps erupt hastily. The smirk he had been trying to conceal had finally shown itself. He pulled back and motioned for you to follow, making his way upstairs to his bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hangovers & Pale Complexions

**Author's Note:**

> we're all going to hell anyways, might as well enjoy the ride there. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

_Hangover? Hangover._  A sigh escaped your lips, fingertips already pressed into your skull in an attempt to stop the infernal echoes of clicking noises. A throbbing pain was the morning (was it morning?) greeting, dull and usual as your eyes glazed over the surroundings. Bottle after bottle after bottle, sitting upright or tipped over on the table to your right, either barely filled or empty.  _Tequila, whiskey, rum, vodka…_  Nothing else was discernible; your eyesight still bleary from the party last night. What was meant to be a small party with a bunch of close friends had turned into an all-out disaster, strippers, cops, cop strippers, cops with strippers, Dante going wild atop tables, Lady and Trish taking notes for future blackmail whilst placing bets, a missing Vergil, and what seemed to be the rest of Fortuna, fit into the tight space that was ‘Devil May Cry’. Not to mention the pizza box tower.

Light flooded through the crack between the monochrome curtains, crawling over your skin in attempts to eradicate the cold, signaling the start of morning. Another glance told you of your position, splayed over the couch downstairs, outstretched arms in different directions, a leg hanging off the top of the couch, the other foot plastered to the floor, a head hanging off the cushions. You could feel the slightest buzz of excitement within the pool of your stomach, very odd considering the night and the fact that you were alone. Nevertheless, there was much consideration to be done, whether the best course of action was to get to a bed for decent comfort, to stay on the couch and do nothing, or to straighten up but sleep on the couch.

Your attire simply consisted of a low cut vest, a pair of loosely fitted jeans (which, by the way, were not your, they happened to be someone else’s. Who it might’ve belonged to it beyond you) and matching undergarments, polka dotted with a red/blue color scheme. Of course, looking down your chest had you realising you currently did not wear one of two undergarments, but rather remembering that you had lost it in a drunken bet with Lady, presumably over the idea of Dante falling off tables with or without bottles and pizza in hands.

Soft clicking continued echoing in your head, dilated pupils searching for the source of the sound, sweeping over the sight of a pale complexion and clock. Whilst you had managed to just barely discern the time, a broad figure filled your blurred vision. _Dante? Is the idiot even alive??_  You blinked multiple times, clearing the blur to fixate on a very familiar face. Snow-like hair, swept back, a blue coat with a serpentine design running along the edges, an ascot, sleeveless vest. Of course, the aura emitted from the male was enough to recognize which of the twins it was, but your brain was frolicking merrily in a field comprised of bottles of alcohol and pizza, so common sense was obviously out the window.

The figure sat at the wooden table, a leg crossed over the other, an elbow propped against the uneven surface with a glass in hand, wrist swirling in a clockwise manner, the slightest sound of a liquid sloshing against the glass confines, fingers tapping alongside the wondrous sound of… jazz? The low melody of a brass instrument, seemingly a saxophone accompanied by the slow background key tapping of a piano, meshing together to create a quiet, relaxing atmosphere. How wonderful he had looked, with what seemed to be the slightest hint of a smile playing on his lips, barely open eyes directed towards the sleek, shiny surface of the table.

The curves of your lips twitched, easing into a smile unknowingly as you brought your limbs together, side by side as you stilled your body along the length of the couch. The jazz seemed to envelop you in a floating cloud of notes, the pain seemingly drifting away on a separate cloud. The music rung in your ears, leaving you unable to hear your own humming; however it did not go unnoticed.

He had been up for an hour or so, sitting at the table, enjoying his whiskey and jazz as you slept on the couch. From the corner of his eye, he could see the body, thighs rubbing against each other, chest rising for an extended period of time, audible sighs, a gasp or a moan every once in a while, yet your hands never roamed, never touched, body stilled in an odd position.

Light blue irises made contact with your limp figure, his head slightly turned as his hand gradually stopped swirling. He pushed the seat back and began to approach you silently, his figure towering over you within a few steps. The drowsiness combined with the music to form a laidback expression, one where you peeked at Vergil with a single eye, head shifting to gain a better view of the man.

 _He looks as wonderful as ever_. The blue hue of his eyes rivaled that of a clear morning sky, physique toned and seemingly taut, lips slim. He eyed you, taking in your form as he leaned down. You reeked of alcohol, but it wasn’t exactly off-putting, if anything, you only seemed drinkable to him. His long legs bent, putting him at eye level with you. He had never been in such close proxemics with you, only now taking in your features.

The more he leaned in, the rosier the hue spread over your cheeks. He exhaled, allowing his warm breath reach your skin; eyes darting from your face to your arms, watching the goosebumps erupt hastily. The smirk he had been trying to conceal had finally shown itself. He pulled back and motioned for you to follow, making his way upstairs to his bedroom.

There was no time for any form of consideration, there was only a gorgeous man motioning for you to follow, and that was exactly what you were going to do.

Your body started to tremble in excitement, subconsciously reaching out to hold his hand. The contact was initially cold, gradually warming, more surprising that he allowed it. You quickly followed in his footsteps, in equal silence, step after step, trailing after the man, dormant lust slowly breaking away from its cage deep inside of you. You could feel your chest lifting and dropping, diaphragms expanding and retracting, suddenly becoming very aware of how your body motions looked through his eyes, those exotic eyes that reflected the sky, how easy it was to be lost with only a single glance.

Being the gorgeous gentleman he was, he allowed you to enter first, staying behind to shut the door with a single tap. With quick strides, he closed the distance between you two, his hands clasped onto your cheeks, surprisingly warm lips smothered against yours in fervent passion. Despite having drunk whiskey a little while ago, he could taste your intake of whiskey as well, melded together with the tastes of vodka and limes, he became interested.

The sudden movement had your knees give out in moments, fingers curling into his blue coat, clinging for dear life.  _Oh, fuck._  The only thought to make it through and be known, and most certainly the last. You took immediate notice of the smoothness of his lips, the demanding nature of his actions, and how exhilarating it felt. The tip of his tongue traced over your lips impatiently, requesting access until you gave in, parting your lips with a slight tilt of your head.

His tongue was unnaturally warm, the way his tongue slid past yours, invading your mouth, understanding it, memorizing it. A gasp slipped, sating his hidden need for your voice. Before he could retract his tongue, you coaxed it back. A mischievous glint in your eyes, he had found himself more interested than before. His hands lost their pressure, his fingers pressing into your skin as they grazed past your jaw and neck, slowing as they reached your chest.

You pulled back, at a loss for breath, meeting his sly grin once more. Your body started to heat up, unable to find any form of control. The fingertips searched your body as though he were drawing an invisible map, in search of something, anything he might find to his liking, leaving a trail of heat. And he did, when he elicited a short, sweet moan as his fingers brushed past your erect nipples.

  
His lips sought the warm, sensitive delight that was your skin, attaching them to your jawline, leisurely making his way down the length of your neck. His teeth sunk into your flesh, teasingly, forcefully, enough to leave a noticeable, large mark as the tip of his tongue flickered against the sore skin. He repeated his actions down your neck and onto your collarbone, adding more marks, continually sinking his teeth, flicking his tongue over the bruised area.

The more he bit, the harder it was for you to stop yourself from moaning, your head tilting back hesitantly. A long, slightly high pitched breath left your lips, fingers white through your clinging. He situated his thumbs directly over your nipples, barely a centimeter apart, the length of his fingers stretched over your stomach.

Before he continued, he shuffled with your body still attached to him until he reached the hefty dresser to your right. For a moment, he moved his hands to your waist, lifting you high enough to have your chest at eye level. His fingers tugged at the fabric of your shirt, seemingly disappointed in the fact that it still clothed you. With a single action, he ripped the material apart with ease, your chest now exposed. The disappointment was quickly replaced, finding the lack of a bra enjoyable.

The rose hue darkened under the intimidation, your fingers curled over the edge of the dresser. His fingers inched towards the exposed flesh, fingertips brushing over the soft surface. He deliberately ran the length of his index finger over your nipple slowly, eventually placing his index finger and thumb on either side of the erected flesh, squeezing and lightly tugging. He didn’t have to wait for a response, eliciting soft moans and audible gasps spontaneously.

Your head jerked back, fingers outstretched, your other nipple enveloped in wet warmth. Whilst his hands snaked down to your sides to keep you in place, his tongue flickered, teeth sawing. Your breathing fell out of rhythm, lips parted, thighs tightly pressed against one another, unable to keep your voice down.

A nerve in his hand tensed, forcing a hard press into your hip. Long fingers slid down your hip, hooking onto the hem of your pants, a low growl rumbling. You felt his lips vibrate, bringing your hand to his hair, gripping onto a tuft of snow. The warmth vanished, a low whine involuntarily meeting the male’s ears.  _That grin_. Those velveteen lips, slim and delicate, exploring your stomach, planting kisses along the way.

Like he did with your shirt, he tugged at your jeans. Considering the position, he lifted you off the wooden furniture, onto your feet. “I want them off,” he murmured lowly. He was generally patient; he could wait, though something had clicked inside of him, the patience had vanished for this particular scenario. A large portion of your mind had become blank, only carnal desires lasted, the same carnal desires that had your body shaking with pure delight with a single thought.

Your hands fumbled with the button of the jeans, itching to relieve your legs. As you struggled, he began to strip himself, deliberately, painstakingly slow, azure irises glazing over yours as your hands had stopped fumbling, meeting gazes. Your tongue trembled as it slid against your lips, heart beating erratically.  _How pale, how muscled_. Your ears rung with the sounds of clothes falling, sliding off, rustling against taut muscles.

You were floored at the sight of his body, jaw on the verge of unhinging. It was abundantly clear that he had spent a very, _very_ long time training his body. You didn’t have the time to indulge in his body, not when your body was vivacious, fingers finally unbuttoning the wretched piece of clothing, tossing them to the side. Colored irises sought azure, but had instead fixated on a lengthy piece of flesh. You most certainly did not expect him to be this _long_.

He closed the space between you two, pressing his body against yours, the contact sparking intense heat. Instead of making use of the dresser, he led you to the bed, dropping you into a pool of satin bed covers. He took note of your panties and clicked his tongue, situating himself by your legs. You squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, cheek rubbing against satin as you looked away, knees up as thighs pressed together in embarrassment.

Cold hands met warm knees, pulling them apart as he leaned down, kissing your thighs. Your fingers curled into the satin, jaw clenched, rapid breathing and a familiar feeling swirling within. Along the length of your thighs, he bit down, like he did against your neck, but with more pressure. He moved carefully, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake, reddened, largely swollen skin appeared as a result.

A finger stretched out, pushing against the fabric of your panties, unnaturally warm with a slight amount of stickiness, sliding upwards and down. Your breath was caught, fingers yanking the fabric slightly. He pulled the undergarment off, past your thighs and legs, tossing it off the bed, leaving you fully exposed.

Your eyes widened at contact between his fingers and your growing wetness, more so when he had started to rub his thumb against your clit in circular motions, slowly, deliberate, watching you writhe in delicious agony under his touch. He slid his index finger inside of you, in and out, in the same fashion as he had started. His actions had led to numerous drawn out gasps and needy moans, tugging at the bed fabric, whispering his name.

"V-Vergil…" You moaned, back slightly arching. Your voice prompted him to add another finger, those slim, long fingers pressing against the wet walls, searching for your sweet spot. He was experimenting, watching how your body reacted to different speeds, different motions, the amount your body could handle before breaking under his touch. The familiar sensation had become more apparent, your legs slightly vibrating as your hands pulled the sheets closer to your body.

His fingers scissored, stretching the tight hole, obtaining more of your voice in doing so. You wanted to speak, to mutter words for him to hear, to allow him to hear your needs, your whines, your cries for pleasure, brought onto you by him. Your voice was cut off by the sleekness of his lips upon yours, as though he wanted to devour your voice. His cock twitched, he wanted to enter you, he wanted the sweet release. 

Whilst you were on the verge of your orgasm, his fingers exited, depriving you of the release you've wanted, rather,  _needed_  since he placed his impeccable figure against yours. He wrapped your legs around his waist, hands placed on either side of your head,  the head of his cock brushing past your clit, once, twice, thrice before pushing inside of you. 

You cried out, arching your back as though mimicking a bow, mere inches away from pressing your chest against his. He penetrated slowly, adjusting the length against tight confines, pushing inside until his length was enveloped in heated juices. A guttural groan by your ear had you in shambles. Goosebumps erupted, shrill cries left your lips, words alone could not express what you had felt at that moment, the pain that came along with the initial thrust, the intensity, the length, the arousal, the excitement, the pleasure that was to follow. Everything to follow was sheer perfection. 

He became rougher and faster in his thrusts, his lips smashing against yours, stifling your cries of pleasure for a moment. His voice became more audible, breath against your lips, drinking in the whiskey once more. Walls tightened around his pulsating erection, his hips rolling rhythmically, repetitively, his own voice eventually betraying him, hoarse and just  _unbelievable._ You coiled your arms around his neck, fingertips running past his nape, breasts following his pattern, softly bouncing alongside his thrusts. 

There was no possibility of recalling how many times you've felt this sensation, progressively returning, far stronger than before. The sensation tugged at your body, ripples upon ripples of excitement flowing through your body. You could tell he was experiencing the same feeling through his wild thrusts, hitting the sweet spot deep inside. He bit down onto your lower lip, arms tensing, legs shuddering, cock twitching. 

" _Cum for me_ ," he breathed, your response consisting of multiple nods, moaning 'yes' over and over, breaking away from his lips, pressing your forehead into his crook of his neck. Altogether, your body fell apart, screaming out his name, body undergoing multiple spasms, pulsating with the pleasure of release, back arched and pressed against his body, your walls convulsing around his cock. He released a long breath, followed by a gravelly grunt, thrusting into you once more, sheathing the entirety of his length inside of you, his cock pulsating, releasing his cum inside of you. 

Another kiss and an exchange of breaths stilled both bodies. He toppled over, snuggling by him as he wrapped his arms around your body, your hands spread against his chest. His chin rested atop your head, bringing you in closer. He was a man of passion, snarky and sassy with Dante, yes, but that never meant he was devoid of emotions. 

_Let’s hope tomorrow has a different scenario._

 


	2. Mimicry & New Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You shook your head side to side against the pillow, the soft scraping noise causing your eyes to open again. There it was, that wonderful sensation only Vergil could cause. Your fingers started stroll down your body, the palm of your hand pressed against your stomach, chest slightly constricted, heart beginning to race. Your legs shifted, digging the soles of your feet into the mattress, knees bent. The fingers of your free hand pressed against your lower lip, dipping inside of your mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was much harder than I expected (hoho) but I'm definitely riding his dick to hell.

Within hours of falling asleep, you had awoken to the sound of glass crashing from below, body upright in seconds. The same warmth you had initially slept with had disappeared, a flash of worry spread through your body. You frantically whipped your head side to side, in search of your heat source, your lover, lips slightly trembling. The thought of him being the cause of the crash was highly unlikely, due to his accuracy and precise calculations. You swung your legs off the bed, feet tapping against the cold surface amidst the dark. The bedroom was lovely but the color scheme had you tripping over everything, the lustrous dark purple bed sheets, overflowing onto the floor, made of the finest satin you had ever felt, the mahogany cabinets and dressers, the little chair situated at the bedpost, the finer, sofa-like chair at the corner, by the glass table. 

You had to remind yourself this was a bedroom, _Vergil’s bedroom_ , and what a lovely reminder it was. A gust of cold wind attacked your skin, causing a little gasp and spontaneous shudders. With a quick turn of your heel, you shut the windows swiftly and dove back to bed, cowering under the weighty blanket. You were lacking in the clothes department, having enjoyed a night of carnal pleasure with him only mere hours ago. 

Your eyes wandered up to the ceiling, taking note of the little chandelier that dangled. There was an abundance of darkness in the room, only a handful of light from the slightly parted door, giving you just enough to see the little chandelier dangling off the ceiling. _He’s ridiculously extravagant, even his taste in color is great._ A soft pitter patter rhythm battered away at the window panes, indicating the start of a light shower of rain.

It was oddly quiet in Devil May Cry, for the first time in a long, long while, only the rain to set the atmosphere. As rain had always been a mood setter, the pitter patter calmed you, no longer in a state of panic. You brought the blanket closer, knees near your chest, fingers intertwined, arms outstretched, colored irises watching the fall of water through the window. 

You’re uncertain as to whether the panic was appropriate; he was a man of power and will after all. Your eyes started to shut, eyelids falling together, the blanket slid over the bridge of your nose, warming your cheeks. As you started losing yourself to the depth of your mind, your breaths steadied, hair splayed over the pillow. Your mind had begun to commit sins, the image of Vergil’s body burned deep inside, as though placing his body on a pedestal beneath multiple spotlights. 

You shook your head side to side against the pillow, the soft scraping noise causing your eyes to open again. _There it was, that wonderful sensation only Vergil could cause._ Your fingers started stroll down your body, the palm of your hand pressed against your stomach, chest slightly constricted, heart beginning to race. Your legs shifted, digging the soles of your feet into the mattress, knees bent. The fingers of your free hand pressed against your lower lip, dipping inside of your mouth. 

You breathed against your fingers, knees bumping together, the index finger of your lower hand pressing against your clit, attempting to mimic the male’s actions the night before, circling against the sensitive flesh. You moaned, swallowing hard, middle finger teasing your entrance. You pulled the blanket over your knees, leaving them bare, pressed together, feet apart. Your body froze once a creaking noise filled the room, colored eyes meeting azure. 

He raised his eyebrow slightly, sky blue irises glazing over your face, blanket and exposed wetness. Like your body, his chest was bare, only a pair of dark, silky pants adorning his strong legs. His lips curved, your eyes hooked onto his bulge, that _deliciously large bulge_. 

“Continue,” he ordered. You exhaled, teeth biting down onto your fingers, rounded movements once more. One of the last things he would ever expect is for you to masturbate on his bed, the thought had never even crossed his mind. He watched, your fingers treading carefully upon delicate skin, fingers parting the labia. His thumbs hooked the hem of his pants and pulled downwards, just enough so that his erection could spring free from its clothed cage, fingers wrapped around his length gingerly, fluid motions running up the length to the base. His eyes glistened with insatiable hunger. 

The constriction in your chest continued, undulations coursing through your body, fingers increasingly speeding up. You moaned, breaths coming out in short intervals. He leaned against the door, lips parted, respiring deeply, a soft groan rumbling. 

Oh how you wanted him to fill you up with his hard cock, how you wanted to scream his name out in pleasure, how you wanted him to never stop pounding into yo—ah. He staggered for a moment, legs tensed, a growl escaping through his teeth, promptly grabbing your attention. His hand eased the grip on his raging erection, a change in speed. Whilst you had continued, the back of your head pushing into the mattress, fingers pushing inside, a slick sound accompanying, created something Vergil wanted more of. 

Your fingers entered and retracted, hoping that there was some part of you that could replicate last night’s foreplay, specifically his fingers. Those warm fingers, initially chilled, gradually warming inside of you, the way he had brought you to shambles with mere strokes and kisses. You had fallen for that man, so very hard, similar to his… _situation_.

He waited patiently for your release, having his own ideas he needed to put into play. As you neared the edge of an orgasm, he took quite strides towards your legs, feet tapping against cold timber boards, fingers unwrapped, body hovering over your, teeth nibbling at your lobe, two nimble fingers inserting as yours retracted fully, your hand on your stomach. “How bad do you want to cum?” Regardless of the amount you had listened to his voice, every word produced jolts running down your spine to your extremities, lips plastered to his collarbone. 

“V-very bad,” you were surprised you could speak; voice barely audible, responding through multiple breaths. “P-please Vergil…” you begged, a high whine following your words. His fingers curled inside of you, thrusting near ferociously, teeth sinking into the lobe. As you remembered how he had released inside of you, the warmth of his fervent seed spilling inside of you, your body quivered, reaching your climax. Your legs dropped, toes stretching as far as possible, a long cry of the man’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue, walls squeezing his fingers, an explosion of white light. There was a possibility that alone could’ve brought Vergil to his climax, but his body was stilled. 

He was a man of little words, yet when he spoke; it was as though the world around you collapsed into a pool of nothingness. “More,” he whispered, fingers easing, exiting as he slithered away, tongue running over silk lips, the slightest shine added. “I want _more_ ,” he breathed, motioning for you to come forward, index finger outstretched, curling inwards.

You struggled initially, leaning on one arm, spine upright, half open eyelids peering at the male, chest heaving, legs still buzzing. You shuffled, situating yourself onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the demanding man. You were at eye level with his cock, you could see the twitches, oh how you wanted to take the length into your mouth and repay him for last night’s actions, how you wanted to prove to him that you were capable with every limb possible. 

You approached the flesh carefully, extending your index finger, starting at the base, running along the length. Colored irises looked up, meeting the sky, both eyes glimmering with the same hunger that could now be sated. You added your middle finger, repeating your actions; the slight twitch had the tip of your tongue pressed against your upper lip, slanting to the right. You then coiled your fingers around his slick length, stroking the length with a mild pressure, earning yourself a low groan. Your lips twitched, a grin forming quickly, pulling your gaze down to inspect the little twitches and the slightest upward thrust. You stretched your thumb far enough to be able to sit atop the head of his cock, circling smoothly. 

His hands sought your hair, palms pressed against the sides of your head, fingers stretched to the back, curling, grabbing tufts of hair, tugging slightly. You understood that he wanted you to use your mouth, so you complied, pressing your soft lips against the head of his cock. You planted little kisses alongside his length, sucking at the sensitive skin as though you were attempting to place a hickey. You enveloped the head in a cavern of heated stickiness, and through the slight push of his hands, you were guided down, taking inch after inch inside of your mouth. After placing your hands on his hips, your fingers curled to gain a form of support.

The male bit down onto his lower lip gently, the warmth of your mouth had his cock jerking, eliciting a long exhale. As he pulled your head back, your eyes pursued azure, heart beating near violently against your chest. With more vigor, he pushed the tips of his fingers into the back of your head, coating his cock with your saliva, nearly gagging on the sheer size. 

Continual actions, delightful actions though it caused a slight sting, had Vergil thrust until he could no longer hold back the mind blanking sensation within the depth of his stomach. He fit just about the entirety of his length into your mouth, spurts of cum hitting against the inside of your throat, head thrown back, a hoarse moan ringing in your ears. He retracted slowly, the malleable flesh still twitching. Your hands dropped from his hips, one placed over your chest as you gasped for air, the other over your thigh. 

The actions had your body worn out, falling back into the bed sheets. He followed in your stead, flopping down onto the bed next to you. As you snuggled against his broad chest, he draped an arm over your body, finding it time to indulge in a little nap. 

_“Good girl,” he murmured into your ear._


	3. Dawn & Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velveteen curves twitched, a grin dancing at his lips, thumb brushing over your eyes, fingers tracing the bridge of your nose, the suppleness of your lips, the sharpness of your jawline, the length of your neck, your collarbone. He nibbled on your shoulder, planting the smallest kisses against your arm, down to your hand, caressing the inside of your palm and fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> morning shenanigans with your favourite man on the way to hell.

The night was spent with little fidgeting, strong arms coiled around your body, bodies pressed together, generating heat through the cold. Slow, long breaths against each other’s skin, your cheek against the sheets, nose pressed against his chest as Vergil’s face pressed against the pillows. Legs once intertwined shifted, one of yours wrapped over, the other pressed against his.

Dawn broke through, illuminating the dark room, a shine bouncing off of naked skin, relaxed body rousing, eyelids sluggishly opening, looking down to your sleeping form. His fingers touched the hickeys he had once left on you; the swollen skin had somewhat healed, leaving only a faint dark redness. He had considered replacing the hickeys with more noticeable ones, maybe leaving bruises, regardless of your emotions or protests. Though he had started to understand that you enjoyed his actions, maybe he would enjoy marking you as his, and his only.

Vergil slithered out of your weak grip, sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his body, arms in the air, fingers and toes outstretched, wrists twisting anti-clockwise, hand running through his hair, pushing back the majority of wispy strands. After another glance at your sleeping body, he slipped into loose navy blue pajama pants, taking long strides out of the room, down the stairs, to the kitchen.

A figure sat at the table, a doppleganger, to say the least, same snow hair, azure eyes, the slightest fault in physique, in height, in hair styles, most distinguishable difference being the aura. ~~And the grin.~~ That shitty grin, that irresistible grin, directed to his older twin. “You’ve been uh… quite… _intimate_ with your _friend_ , huh?” A cheeky tone when addressing his elder, a low chuckle when watching Vergil’s lips curve darkly.

“And if I am? What would it be to you?” A hint of chill in his voice, waiting for the younger to pour him a glass of whiskey. From what Vergil could gather, Dante had stayed at the table for a while, stripped of his trademark coat, unbuttoned jeans. “Trying to tell me I’ve been intricate with someone whilst you’re not even attempting to hide it, tch.” A click of his tongue had Dante finally pour the alcohol into the spare glass. The sound calmed the older twin, something about his favorite alcoholic drink being spilled from bottle to glass helped ease the gears of his overworking mind.

“Guess you caught me,” the younger twin snickered.  He pressed his hands together and stretched, a drawn out puff of breath. The liquid burned his tongue, throat and stomach, a smoky aftertaste. His eyes were shut, mind wandering, specifically to your sleeping body. His lips eased, a minor hint of a soft smile, one Dante had never seen.

“She must be quite the delight, brother.” Vergil retorted with a flick of his wrist and a large gulp of whiskey. He had grown accustomed to the taste of whiskey, no longer needing to hiss after large swigs, more accustomed to Dante’s nosiness.

“Go back to your stripper; she must be missing you _dearly_.” Vergil returned to his bedroom, questioning whether you had awakened.

He took the time to drift back into the bed, subconscious fingers tapping against your skin lightly, trailing towards your hair, running fingers through the softness, stroking, slightly tugging at it.  _Mmm_ , he wanted to brush his fingers over your body, to litter your body with kisses and hickeys, to have your body trembling through the tiniest touches, to listen to your cries of pleasure, to feel your warmth envelop his cock, to thrust again and aga-.  _Hmm_. The nerves jerked in his hands, a spasmodic yank at your hair, your body shuffling, pressing against the mattress, inching towards his body, eyes opening for a split second.

Velveteen curves twitched, a grin dancing at his lips, thumb brushing over your eyes, fingers tracing the bridge of your nose, the suppleness of your lips, the sharpness of your jawline, the length of your neck, your collarbone. He nibbled on your shoulder, planting the smallest kisses against your arm, down to your hand, caressing the inside of your palm and fingers.

 _Surprisingly heavy sleeper_. His lips met your neck, tenderly, hoping to keep you asleep for as long as possible, hands on your legs, pushing them lightly, spreading them as he hovered over your drowsy body. Silky lips pressed against your stomach, tongue trailing down, hands against the insides of your thighs despite your body stirring. His initiation consisted of several kisses along your thigh, to replace your lost hickeys, teeth sinking, biting, sucking, soon enough he would replace them on your neck and collarbone. Your body responded, ruffling the sheets, shoulder blades pushing into the bed, a small sigh, eyes opening groggily before returning to slumber.  _To hell with it_.

He placed your legs over his shoulders, inching lower and lower, the tip of his tongue pressed against your clit, slightly pulling at the sensitive flesh. The contact produced jolts flaring through your body, produced from your lower body to your upper, a shock hard enough to wake you near fully from your slumber. Your eyes shot open, body shooting mostly upright, breath erratic, hips slightly swaying side to side, supporting the weight of your upper body on bent arms behind you. He placed his hands out to your hips, fingers pressing into the skin, holding you in place as he lapped at your growing wetness.

His tongue was smooth, tip sharp, every lick generating jerking movements, hips attempting to writhe under his iron grip, a sharp inhale, a short moan. The feeling was exhilarating, unable to explain in words alone, fingers gripping at sheets, nails scratching the fabric. You placed one of your feet over the other, locking your position, pressing the soft skin of your thighs against his cheeks. Once more, he brought your world to ruin with simple tongue movements, well versed in the anatomy of women, understanding what made them tick, moan, cry out, climax.

The warm sensation was never ending, beginning at the pit of your stomach, coursing through your torso to your extremities, your mind saved for last. Nonstop movements, teasing occasionally with a little bite, he could _feel_  your legs trembling against his skin, every little shudder. He slid two fingers inside of you, deep, unannounced, finding your reaction enjoyable, the way you had arched your back and cried out his name, fingers white, hands elevated with sheets.

On the verge of your climax, he pulled back abruptly, breaking the flimsy foot lock, retreating. A high whine slipped, his eyes fixated on your face, a grin playing at his lips. _Ah fuck me, that grin is jus- it does ridiculous things to my body_.  Your body was far too out of control to be able to reach after him, to plead, to beg for him to continue yet your voice refused, mirroring your body. You could feel the intensity of his gaze, the fingertips pressing against your breasts, the burning sensation, searing your skin, adding onto the fervent jolts that already filled your body.

“Is there something you want?”  _You, inside, now._  Whilst it was a shame your voice crumbled for the moment, you took the opportunity to listen to his voice, the soft murmurs, audible only for your ears, almost as though it was an exclusive… gift, so to say. Needless to say, he too removed his hand, inspecting your following actions, sitting at the corner of the bed.

You propped yourself onto your elbows, swallowing hard, lips parted, irises concentrated on his, eyebrows slightly furrowed. It was the first time he had seen you furrow your eyebrows, even if it had been unintentional; the slightest need to smother you and ease your face of worry, to give you your release had become rather evident, stripping himself of his pants. Hands and knees rustled against the silk leisurely, colored irises glazing over his figure.

A sigh of relief, with a hint of excitement, you straightened your legs, bending them to the side, back upright, leaning towards him, clashing lips with his. Color met the sky as he ducked beneath you, head against the sheets, straddling over his lower body, hips slightly elevated, feverish tongue sliding over lips, hands over his collarbones. You lowered yourself onto his erection, labia parting, hips gyrating. “ _Haah, Vergil,”_ you moaned, biting down onto your lower lip, head lolling back, breasts rising and falling.

A huff emerged from the man beneath you, hands clasped onto your hips, fingers massaging the skin firmly. A slight upward thrust, brushing past your clit, your lips pursed. “In,” he ordered, gravelly. You swallowed hard, your hand snaking down his body, fingers coiled around his cock, pushing the head against your entrance, lowering your body onto his hips, enveloping the entirety of his cock, hissing through your teeth. You situated your hands onto his thighs, raising your body, lowering, repeating your actions, friction sparking a familiar warm sensation within the pit of your stomach.

He raised his body, upright, unable to keep his impulses at bay, pushing deep inside, breathing heavily, an occasional gravelly moan at particular thrusts, shifting gears into overdrive. Your arms shifted again, upper extremities against his shoulders, a high whine at your lips before you sunk your teeth into his collarbone, nearly enough to draw blood, lips vibrating through endless moans, sharp jolts attacking both bodies with the overwhelming sensation of release.

 _Oh god, oh fuck, holy fu—_ a scream of his name, enough to be heard from downstairs, your body shaking wildly, filled with his semen, head thrown back, body breaking down, walls squeezing tightly around his cock, nails leaving dark red crescents into his skin. He followed shortly, a high guttural moan, biting down onto your neck, sinking a row of white into the flesh, a flurry of fervent breaths against your skin. Chests heaving, riding out orgasms, your forehead pressed against his collarbone, eyes shut. The sky disappeared, eyelids shut, chin atop your resting head, holding your body gingerly. 

_He cooed your name, a smile playing at his lips._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking longer than usual, brain was flopping.~


	4. Groceries & Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point Dante was crying on the floor with pizza stuck to his chest, Trish snapped a few shots, Vergil forced you to look the other way and became strangely possessive over the course of the night and Lady was… god knows what she was doing, probably trying to burn Dante’s clothes whilst searching for sharpies to desecrate his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sweet mother of god I finally finished it  
> enjoy the quickie because it certainly didn't feel like it

Your body was rigid, against a familiar surface, eyebrows deeply furrowed, certain muscles inflexible, unable to move in the slightest way. A long, exasperated sigh followed by a low growl passed through your lips. _I’m going to fucking kill Dante one day_. The night before was a celebration for finishing a long request that lasted around a week, the idiot always threw celebrations if requests were longer than 2-3 days. The difference between standard parties and ‘celebrations’ was the amount of drinking involved, Dante always trying to outdo himself, attempting to go in a drinking game against Vergil/Trish/Lady.

Needless to say, Vergil continued declining and the drinking games against Trish and Lady led to catastrophes. Of course, you always declined as well, unable to drink to their caliber, but now you’ve found that sitting aside with Vergil, indulging in whiskey and jazz and making speculations of the party was far more enjoyable than being sprawled over a couch with a throbbing hangover. ~~What you were mainly surprised about is the fact that your liver hadn’t failed yet.~~

Your eyes could only go so far, barely able to discern the reasoning for your… _situation_. A clenched jaw, a hard swallow, teeth gnashing, and as much as you would’ve enjoyed screaming for help, you knew everyone was asleep, especially Vergil.

Speaking of the devil, a soft chill of a voice had your ears perked. “Why are you strapped to the couch with duct ta— _oh_.” _No wonder it hurt so much whenever I tried moving_. The aloof man caught on, and should you have asked him why it took so long for him to remember, he’d simply respond with the flick of his wrist and blame it on the morning. _Something Dante would do._

“Looks like you got caught up in last night’s ‘disaster’.”

Ah yes, the disaster. To put it simply: Dante went ridiculous with alcohol and pizza whilst playing strip poker with Lady and Trish – he was too trashed to be able to play and as a result he was the only one who stripped. Vergil prompted you to join, but the offer was quickly shot down when you started to tease him.

At some point Dante was crying on the floor with pizza stuck to his chest, Trish snapped a few shots, Vergil forced you to look the other way and became strangely possessive over the course of the night and Lady was… god knows what she was doing, probably trying to burn Dante’s clothes whilst searching for sharpies to desecrate his body.

Oddly enough, Lady was the one who duct taped you, and, of course, Dante helped. Most of your body was exposed, the tape situated from one arm to another, over the fabric of your shirt, likewise with your legs, taping your thighs together over your little shorts. Why Lady had strapped you down you never knew, nor were you going to try to kno—

“Though I _do_ enjoy the look of you tied up…” he muttered, fingers tapping at his lips. _Lord have mercy on my soul_. He was wearing those loose, hip clinging pajama pants that exposed his wonderful v lines ~~and god forbid they slide down.~~

You inhaled sharply, body wiggling under the tape, urging to move towards Vergil, the tip of your tongue stuck out. He walked towards you, slowly, leisurely before he pressed the tips of his fingers against your knee, dragging the extremity upwards, over your thigh—

“Vergilllllll.~”

 _Dante’s a dead fucking man, I swear to god this isn’t even the first fucking time he’s stopped Vergil and_ —Vergil’s fingers pressed into your thigh, a chill running through the heated flesh. You sighed and dramatically flicked your head to the side, mumbling something about how you’d kill Dante should you ever have the chance, eliciting breathless laughter from your lover.

“Vergil we’re out of groceriessssss, can you go buy some pleaseeee?~” Dante drawled, words slurred, clear indication the fool was still drunk. You were absolutely, 100% sure Vergil was going to insult Dante and decline.

“Sure.” You flicked your head back, jaw unhinging. _What??? What is happening, everything’s going wron_ \- your thoughts become blank when you feel silk pressed against your lips. There’s a lot of thought interruption, but it’s not like you mind when it comes from Vergil.

“Will you join me?”

“Depends on whether you plan on taking me like a sack of potatoes or not,” a hasty response, you were either awfully brave or maybe it was the alcohol speaking, you were sure it was the alcohol. His lips twitched upwards, azure meeting colored irises.

“Considering the tape is over your clothes and not on any skin…” he leaned in, lips brushing against the lobe, voice audible only for your ears. “You wouldn’t mind if I _ripped_ them off, right?”

 _~~I have ascended to the heavens.~~ _ ~~~~

“Vergilll, can you buy some pizza toooo?~”

_~~And I’m back down on earth.~~ _

You were almost his present, _if it wasn’t for Dante_. Vergil helped you off the couch and brought you to the kitchen, using a knife to cut through certain pieces of the tape so you were able to run upstairs and change into something more fitting for the market.

You changed into a blouse and short skirt, whilst Vergil dressed in his blue coat, vest and scaly pants, waiting at the door. You bounded over to him, an excited puppy, locking arms and clinging to the muscular man as you exited the business. The walk took around 5-10 minutes, engaged in small talk and your grumbles of killing Dante. The supermarket was quite big, aisles upon aisles, and naturally Vergil went straight for the very end, where there the lanes were empty.

You searched for an item and found it sitting on the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes in attempts to reach as Vergil stood behind and chuckled. Your blouse lifted, exposing slivers of skin, reminding him of the earlier moment you had shared with him. “That reminds me, _where were we_?” Before you could register his words, he pressed against you, long fingers curling into your hips, brushing against the fabric of your clothing. Your breath was caught, pushing back against him, shivers racing down your spine as his fingers slid past the waistband of your skirt.

You bit down onto your lower lip once a familiar feeling sparked within, his fingers brushing against your clit, pressing onto it, gyrating. Your body began to shake, breath coming in quick, short puffs. Your fingers curled into metallic racks, jaw clenched in hopes of keeping your voice down.

His fingers teased your entrance before roughly pushing in, two digits pushing and pulling steadily, relishing in the little moan that slipped past your lips. Your hips began to sway lightly, side to side, against his growing erection, spine arched, the back of your head pushed against his chest.

“V-Vergil!” A rough whisper. “We c-can- _haah_.” A hard thrust, to quiet you. He retracted his fingers out abruptly, lifting the extremity to your mouth, sliding the wet fingers inside of your mouth. Your tongue flicked over the tips, over the length, able to taste yourself as you sucked on the length.

A growl on his part, his other hand twined fingers with yours, sliding away from your body, dragging you away to the nearby changing room. Thankfully there was a lack of customers today, unlike most days. He dragged you inside, nearly slamming the door shut, already smothering his lips against yours, his body powering over yours. The room was a closed space with thin walls, how thin? Who knows.

Heavy breaths expelled onto skin through the constant exchange of open mouth kisses. He rolled his hips against yours multiple times before hastily tugging at the hem of his pants, pulling down to reveal his erection; he’s been waiting for this, oh yes he has. He turned you over, sliding your panties down parted slender legs to your knees, hands gripping onto your wrists, stretching your arms over your head whilst having your body forced against the wooden door.

He began to thrust inside of you, roughly, ferociously, to the point where you nearly screamed, the intimacy far different from before, breasts scraping against the door, quieted moans as muscles tensed in attempts to stifle any noise. Warmth spread through your body, quivering, suddenly oblivious to the fact that people could hear slivers of your voice and the rattling of the door, but there wasn’t the slightest bit of worry, not when you were with Vergil.

Almost a 180o change to his general demeanor and actions, it was most certainly surprising but you didn’t dislike it. Along with every thrust a sweet, stinging sensation accompanied, the grip on your hands tightening, dark red staining the skin around your wrists. Gods it was exhilarating, little sounds of gasps and sharp breaths filling the changing room, the endless, feverish heat filling your body, much like his cock.

Your fingers had intertwined, almost as though you were praying for the moment to never end, the friction between your chest and door doing nothing other than sparking the nerves within the pool of your stomach. You were becoming needy, little moans slipping here and there as he continued to pound you relentlessly. His heavy breaths filled the lusty atmosphere with the occasional grunt.

Pressure started to build up, muscles clenching, you could feel the twitches of his cock, the depth he had managed to reach through his fierceness had your legs shaking, on the verge of falling, more so when he had hit that sweet spot. It wasn’t long before you had hit your climax, a strained scream at your lips, a battle between letting loose and keeping shut.

He couldn’t last any longer; a few more thrusts and he had reached his own climax, a near animalistic grunt at his final push, pushing up against your body to rest for a moment, his cock still inside. You could feel the length jerking inside, your knees bent as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head.

_“We should try this again.”_

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, leave a comment and kudos! taking suggestions and requests, though I can't promise you it won't take a while.~  
> also a special thanks to the person who suggested I write it up! <3<3  
> ask for any other means of contact and you shall be served


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